


A Willing Slave

by ReoPlusOne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Bondage, F/M, Gangbang, Genderbending, Master/Pet, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1247692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReoPlusOne/pseuds/ReoPlusOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>De-anon from kink meme.  Fem!England is kept under powerful aphrodisiacs as a consensual sex slave to an ensemble of men.</p><p>Porn without plot/plot what plot.  VERY VERY DIRTY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"She was cooperative this morning," Raivis said nervously. "I didn't think she needed it if she was already being good," His fingers fidgeted over one another and all Elizabeth could think was how small they would feel inside her -- it was enough to make her want to squeal, how dissatisfied she was. And she hadn't even been taken out of bed yet. Her present position was usually a most enjoyable one, and she had no intention of focusing any longer on that discomfort when Francis was finally there.

"I didn't get my shot at all," She hissed, and a furious eye was turned to Raivis. Francis paused to let it sink in and stepped towards her bed -- and she was sure he smiled a little when she squirmed to the edge to be closer to him.

"Servants, they never know what they're doing, do they?" He murmured into her ear, and she gladly pressed her lips against his neck to draw him in. Quickly the restraints on her hands were unlocked and she sat up, feeling suddenly nauseous and giving an unhappy groan to show it. Francis slipped an arm under her back and behind her knees and carried her out as Raivis whimpered his apologies in the background. At least she knew she would be properly cared for now. She let her eyes fall shut and turned her head against his arm, the sudden light from the enormous windows of the main hall threatening to sting her eyes -- one of the few ways she did not like being stung. Suddenly Francis stopped, and she muttered a complaint against the cologne on his clothes.

"Is she ready yet," Said Ivan impatiently. "It's past noon already and she hasn't been released to the common room yet."

"She didn't get her injections this morning and I'm assuming last night's was skipped as well," Francis sounded terribly irritated. Ivan gave a tsk tsk and pet her greasy hair gently, a rarity for him.

"Poor little one must be awfully cranky," She felt Francis nod. "She needs to be ready and out soon, the initiation of the two new boys is today."

"This afternoon before supper, is it?"

"Ah, if I had known it was today I wouldn't have hurt her so badly last night," Ivan ignored him and seemed to speak only to himself.

When his clunking footsteps faded into the distance Francis whispered to her. "You are not hurting, are you?" Elizabeth's headache only got worse as they ascended the stairs, and she gave another groan as her only response. Finally, the small step down signified that they were in her bathing room, and when the lights were dimmed she dared to open her eyes, just a little. Francis set her in the tub and flicked the hot knob on.

"Do you remember when we first bought this mansion," He said, running his hand under the water and testing the temperature, "And everyone thought that having you in this tub would be just superb?" Elizabeth yawned, but did manage a nod. "That was before we realized that water makes terrible lubrication." he finally found the heat satisfactory and poured a handful of it on her. When she didn't flinch Francis plugged the tub and started to fill it, listening to her moan and sink into it with a certain level of delight.

"You know, despite how we use you, we love you very much," He said, gently splashing warm water over her thighs. She probably said something akin to 'I love you too', because it was sufficient to make him smile, but the feeling of warm hands on her was already making her wriggle impatiently.

"You want your solution, don't you?"

"Please," And the moment he turned and reached for the cabinet her heart leaped into her throat in excitement. She might have once been a proud woman, but the slightly off-white solution inside the bottle that Francis held now controlled her life, and in having the only supply of it in the world, so did The Order. It's easy, she thought to herself, for someone to be independent when they can control their own orgasms. But now she was rendered completely incapable of having them at all without a sizable dose of the white stuff inside her. They even generously left a vibrator constantly stuck at maximum in her bed under the sheets, and she could ride it until morning with nothing but the warm, tingling almost-- sensation hovering low in her belly. Addicted was probably the proper word for it, but she was happy to be addicted if she could just have it, damn it! Francis was taking far too long mixing the solution and warm water in her enema bag. He was doing it so slowly she didn't even bother complaining that she didn't like enemas and preferred the syringe, just stared at him angrily.

"Focus on your bath," He waved her away, reaching for a bottle of vitamins.

"Now," Elizabeth fussed, watching with shining eyes as he screwed the connecting tube onto the bottle.

"You'll have to settle down before I do anything." And just like that, she was sitting obediently, twitching with excitement but otherwise unmoving. Pride or no pride, he was being stern, and she knew better than to receive one of his punishments when she was unable to enjoy it.

It was then that Francis smiled again, he always seemed to. Before he could even think it her thighs spread and she was kneeling in the water, shivering in her nakedness. She only ever wore clothes when she was on display after all, and though she was quite a messy sight at the moment Francis enjoyed looking at her. Her hair fell down below her shoulders and covered her breasts in brown-gold tangles -- a shame really -- and it was so dirty and mussed up from her restless sleeping that it almost looked like a mane. Between her legs there was a most inviting sight, and he dared to reach forward and run his hand along the outer lips of her womanhood. She twitched hard, obviously having had no entertainment from her vibrator, and he did feel pity. But it was both for her and for the many men outside the walls of the mansion who could never witness how breath-taking it was to see any woman, much less Elizabeth, in this perfect state.

Too many time he'd overheard a man say that it was easy to tell when men were aroused but a woman's desires were impossible to read. Too many times he'd rolled his eyes. Perhaps it was true when clothes were on -- but there was no mistaking her feelings now. Her cheeks were flushed, her hot breath against his shoulder made him tremble. He could feel her heart pounding when he held his palm up against the underside of her breast and gave a gentle squeeze. Men's arousal could be so ugly, so bold, making a wet spot on the inside of their underwear and an unmistakable bulge in their trousers, but women truly were God's magnum opus. Between her thighs the normal slit of her vulva went from pale, untouched white to a soft, rosy pink. And just like a rose, she blushed and bloomed and he felt a little breathless. Her legs spread even further for him as if to show off her beauty. Those precious lips opened and she grew wet, not with the water from the bath but with her own delicious slickness. So many times he'd thought that she was made to be just like this, the same as he himself was meant to be wanted the way she wanted him. He was right.

The bag could take a moment to grow cold, Francis thought to himself. She was too tantalizing, grabbing the side of the tub and holding her hips forward, just begging for some attention, any attention. She was far too used to getting it now, so much so that the neglect she'd just experienced was almost insufferable. But that was alright, Francis smirked and kissed the space just below her bellybutton, moving slowly downward and listening to her breath hitch in her throat. They both knew she would get all the attention she needed shortly, because refusing her had never been an option to him in the first place.

He pressed a deep kiss to her lowermost lips, let his tongue linger there and reached to turn off the bathwater.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GerEng

The enema took ages. Francis was at least polite enough to administer it and leave her to her privacy, but she knew he was planning something big for her outside the room -- and that alone made her uneasy. After the eternity of even more painful pressure in her abdomen being added and added she'd finally finished the bag and rang for Francis to return. The bath he'd drawn for her was still steaming hot and she sank into it with a grateful sigh, waiting and knowing it would only be minutes before the effects of her drug kicked in.

As he entered again Elizabeth was unsure if she even wanted to speak to him. Knowing her predicament and her inability to achieve release he'd pulled her up out of her warm bath and given her one of his skillful (and admittedly, appreciated) oral 'treats', as he called them. It was by far one of her favorite presents from any of the members, but utterly pointless when it only left her more frustrated (and him, noticeably pleased).

As Francis kneeled beside her with a thermometer Elizabeth felt a distinct fluttering in her limbs. Warmth from deep inside her belly spread out to her fingertips and toes and she almost immediately felt fuzzy. She'd gone too long without a dose and now withdrawl was catching up with her. Even as he pressed the cold metal tip of the thermometer to her lips she lapped at it weakly, her mind spinning wildly from one direction to another. Francis chuckled.

"This isn't the object you think it is, pet. Open your mouth." Still grumpy as she ever was when she wasn't completely on her high she let him stick it under her tongue. She vaguely recognized Ludwig glancing down from the doorway, but didn't look so much as register his presence somewhere in the echoing expanse of her mind. She was getting hazy fast.

"Temperature is elevated," Francis handed the thermometer to Ludwig, who studied it. "How do you feel now?"

"Hot," Elizabeth whined.

"But you still didn't wash your hair, did you," Francis murmured. "I told you to."

"No you didn't."

"You were just too busy rubbing yourself like a horny monkey to notice, mignon."

"Shut up!"

"I'll do it," Ludwig shifted awkwardly in the doorway when they both turned to look at him. "You need to finish the dinner arrangements, Francis. I'm... not experienced with the kitchen staff."

"Trust a German to know nothing of fine cuisine," Francis stood with a shrug. "Finish up with her and bring her down, then. When will the new recruits be arriving?"

"In an hour, though they said they may be late."

Elizabeth huffed loudly, catching both their attentions. Francis waved goodbye and took off for the kitchen to undo the damage he knew had inevitably been done. The sounds of the kitchenstaff downstairs scurrying followed moments after, and Elizabeth snorted softly.

"You don't mind me doing this, do you?" Ludwig asked quietly, being careful to keep his hands strictly to himself. He was always so polite about touching her, everyone joked that he was police officer of the mansion specifically for his concern over her consent. The others never questioned it; she would not be there if she did not enjoy it. She didn't waste a moment and reached for the zipper of his pants so quickly he startled a little -- his answer, in a moment.

"I can't wash your hair if you do that," He almost stammered but caught himself, his hands held awkwardly in midair as she fumbled around and grabbed his half-hard cock from his pants. It didn't get a single moment in the cool air before she forced it into her mouth and sucked, so hard that Ludwig braced himself against the wall with a quiet gasp. Despite the distraction he shakily reached for the shampoo bottle, and when she saw it out of the corner of her eye, she smacked it away from him. The man was dutiful to a fault, which was fine -- when his duty was to pleasure himself with her. In any other situation Ludwig was downright intolerable, and this was definitely one of those situations. Down the shaft she licked, hoping to get his attention off of hair products and onto her, and it was when she was teething the hair that made small curls just around the base of his cock that he found the bottle again and held it up out of her reach. She grumbled when she ran her tongue back up the length of him and only somewhat noticed the water turning on and the bottle being run under the stream for just a moment. Bending at the waist Ludwig pressed a hand to the area just below her tailbone, and it was Elizabeth's turn to jump.

The shampoo bottle rubbed right along her ass, everything wet enough to slide effortlessly across her skin and make her tremble. She thrust her hips backwards against it, the smooth surface just warm enough to be enticing. 

"Do you think you can take it?" Ludwig's voice had gotten deeper, huskier. He was feeling the same way she was, at least. She nodded without even thinking about it. He uncapped the bottle and poured a small amount of it into his hand, being careful to close it again so as not to waste any of it -- her hair still had to be washed when this was over. At least the German remembered the incident and what a poor substitute for lubricant water made and was making the best of what he had. If he had left to get some of the real stuff Elizabeth might have screamed. Ludwig made sure all of the narrow base of the bottle was covered before pressing it to her still-slick hole, which twitched a little in excitement. Her first orgasm of the day and she absolutely could not stand to wait any longer.

After a moment of waiting and a small nod from her Ludwig worked it inside. She was regularly used so it wasn't a terrible stretch for her, though she felt a certain bruise-like pain inside that she recognized as Ivan's doing. Ludwig was apparently enjoying his bird's eye view of the show as well; the moment she pulled his cock out of her mouth to lick her lips she felt it throbbing against her cheek. Perhaps his duty to her hygiene had changed.

As he pushed it inside further she rolled her hips backwards, her back arching to take as much of it as she could. Ludwig seemed surprised when there was not much more than the cap and top half-inch of the bottle peeking out, running a finger along the outside of her stretched pussy where the lips began and the plastic ended. Elizabeth would not tolerate a pause in his work and twisted her body side to side, rolling, pushing backwards -- until finally it hit the spot she had been waiting for. Without meaning to she groaned and dragged her bottom teeth along the underside of Ludwig's cock, and in turn he held her ass in his hand and squeezed, just enough to give a slight sting and make her whine for more.

He grabbed her arm and with the utmost care pulled her back up to sit, and then turned her to lay on her back in the water. Reclining down Elizabeth was able to get everything but her face beneath the surface and give a little shudder as the heat massaged her scalp. She reached down to idly play with the shampoo bottle, which was hanging only halfway out of her, as Ludwig adjusted the knobs for the detachable shower head. She was almost too entranced with twisting the bottle to notice, until the last second when he ran a finger across her outer vulva lips and held them open. She almost yelled her delight when the stream of hot water pulsed over her, suddenly enough to make her push her foot to the wall to brace herself as well as hold herself open for his access. Appreciative, he flicked the nozzle to a higher setting and lowered it to her. Within moments Elizabeth couldn't hold back the tumbling explosion she had been nursing the entire night any more. Her hand grabbed his wrist and shook violently, and with nothing to bite onto her mouth simply hung open as she gasped. Behind her eyes there was nothing but white, bursting in and out of existence as she hung onto the feeling longer and longer and longer. Her hips bucked up to take the bottle deeper inside her and finally, as all the energy she had flowed out of her, she sat back with a shaky sigh, only to notice that she wasn't the only one who had finished. With a blush firmly planted on his cheeks Ludwig cleared his throat and removed the bottle gently. "We still must wash your hair," He said.


	3. Chapter 3

On the first floor their arrival was welcomed. "Such a stunning picture she is," Francis handed her a dress to put on, but no undergarments.

"She could stop a show," Ivan chuckled, running a hand through her hair. "Did you bathe well?"

"We had fun." She said with a nod. From across the room Ludwig coughed.

"At least you will settle down for a little while," Ivan came around the sofa to pull her into his lap. His fingertips seemed to tip-toe up her thighs, childlike in his enjoyment of exploring her body, though he'd had her innumerable times. They found the spot he was looking for and obediently she spread her legs, allowing him to almost painfully shove a pair of fingers inside of her. Up her face he kissed, and the little hint of stubble that reminded her she was not dealing with a child rubbed like sandpaper across her cheek. The stench of vodka that always accompanied his kisses had her turning up her nose until Francis came to her rescue and swept her up in his arms, straight out of Ivan's grasp.

"You'll ruin her for the guests," He said with a hiss. Elizabeth, grateful, clung to him.

"If she is to be ruined, it has already been done." Ivan replied nonchalantly.

Francis, as usual, ignored him and left for the kitchen. Elizabeth was gently allowed to her feet when they were out of earshot and, wobbling, she wandered to the far end of the table. She had tried to sit in the chairs before but found it to be too modest; the only reason she even wore clothes was, as Francis put it, 'to tempt our imaginations into picturing you nude'. Why they should have to _imagine_ when she was happy to let them see for _real_ was beyond her. So instead of a chair she perched on the edge of the table, her bundle of clothing put down beside her as she rummaged through it. Two hairbows sat on top, and she pulled them between her hands, curious.

"Your hair is long enough now to cover you," Ivan said, voicing Francis' intentions. "It's no good if we cannot see all of you." He stepped up to the side of her and plucked a bow from her hand, reaching to gather up half of her hair in his palm and smooth it down on top of her head. Ivan, while a valuable member of the society, seemed to lack an understanding that the others had of how to avoid misusing Elizabeth. He was a tall and wide man, his hands were calloused and rough and he had no concept of how to be gentle with anything, much less a lady. Elizabeth felt him yank at her pigtail like a mischievous child and without thinking, reacted with a slap in his direction.

Everything moved too quickly for her to hear Ludwig leaping out of his chair in the next room, or Francis rushing to grab Ivan's arm. She found herself shoved onto her back with her wrists in his hands, squeezed until she didn't consider struggling. "Do not test me, little girl," His breath reeked of alcohol, but Elizabeth, while too feisty for her own good sober, found a wretched excitement in her position thanks to the drugs in her system. She sighed and wriggled her hips just so, and Ivan accepted her surrender and let her go. For all his faults he still knew how to please her, so when he released her it was to return his fingers to her thighs and pinch once, twice, three times, each getting lower. She welcomed the touching and watched out of the corner of her eye as Francis and Ludwig stood to the side, anxious but enticed.

The moment he ran a hand underneath the curve of her ass Francis stepped in again. He didn't have to say anything however, as that was the moment the door-knocker went off and all four of them turned to look.

Outside the door the new recruits fidgeted. They knew were only granted membership thanks to the influence of their father, but they had no idea that those connections were about to benefit them tremendously. Matthew pulled nervously at the collar of his suit while Alfred, unable to tame a certain strand of hair on his head, stared into his reflection in the door trying to slick it back down. Ludwig ushered them in quickly and they stepped into the dining room, where Ivan was still pinning Elizabeth down and feeling her up with added gusto.

"I already said you'll ruin her," groaned Francis.

"I am simply preparing her," Ivan pouted, and when he stepped away from her she was a tremendous sight, pink and messy and just the way Francis liked her; but he, too, knew that he had to refrain. Her dress slid off the side of the table and fell in a pile on the floor. Her hair was held up only in one messy pigtail and without her glasses she could barely see the newcomers, but even at their distance she knew, immediately, that she wanted them.

"What the hell is this," Alfred breathed.

Francis lifted his wine glass, as if to toast. "Elizabeth is one of the services you will be allowed to partake in, now that you are both full members." And there was that ugly male arousal again, all wide eyes and uncomfortable shifting. Elizabeth, far past the point of politeness and already unbearably needy, simply whimpered a 'please,' as her greeting.

"Do you... uh, have a condom," Alfred cleared his throat into his hand. At least he wasn't going to argue.

"Dinner, first," Francis waved her away and Ivan returned to sling her over his shoulder and grab her dress off the floor.

As the plates were laid out by a parade of well-dressed butlers, Elizabeth was prepared. Truly everyone's favorite part of the day was mealtime, the sole reason being their St. Andrew's cross, a massive X bolted to the wall at the far end of the room. Elizabeth was strapped in, her restraints tightened under Ivan's suddenly careful grip, and when he was satisfied, he left to get her toys. She wriggled in anticipation.

"It was a good purchase, don't you think," Francis nodded to Alfred, who was occupied trying to contain his staring at the scantily-clothed woman that was writhing just a few feet away. He lowered his spoon to scoop up nothing but the air hanging above his soup and brought it to his mouth. He jumped when Matthew elbowed his side to catch his attention.

"Oh yeah, she's great."

"She is," Francis chuckled.

"What a pretty little one," Ivan sang to the tune of an ancient song. In his hand was a briefcase, overflowing with goodies for Elizabeth's entertainment during the meal, but from her vantage point she was only able to see a flash of pink, and that alone gave away the surprise. She noted that Ivan enjoyed placing buttplugs in her, and that was perfectly fine; she probably enjoyed it more than he did. "Pretty little one," He repeated, lathering it with lube.

"I'm not little," She thrashed against the wood, his fingers were big but they looked so small in comparison to her toy, and she was ready, so ready --

It was cold when it was pressed against her. Knowing the command would come she stopped her squirming before it did and waited patiently.

"Mm, move to the side, Ivan." Francis waved to him. "So we may see." Ivan put his palm to her hipbone and squeezed, running it down the smoothness of her thighs as he pressed a little more than just the tip inside her. The swell and stretch of the plug inside her turned slowly into a new ache as he pushed it deeper, deeper. She lowered her hips to take more, because she knew what was coming. The thickest part of the base hung painfully at the opening of her ass, and she almost keened when Ivan paused to reach for the table and dab more lube onto his fingers.

She knew better than to misbehave when Ivan was handling her, however.

He huffed and shoved the final length inside of her, and with a _pop_! it sat, spreading her open. Already her natural lubrication was spreading around her thighs, wet and inviting as she whined for attention. All that was left was to wait.

"What do you think, little one?" He sang, and Elizabeth spread her legs and clenched her muscles, just to feel the little bit of stiff resistance in her ass. She nodded, and with her approval he went to grab her matching vibrator as well.


	4. Chapter 4

Like low tide falling away from shore there was always a lull in conversation when Elizabeth’s cries got longer and louder and everyone felt her release fast approaching.  The intersection of the cross where she hung had grown noticeably darker with her sweat and wetness by the time dessert was delivered and the room’s idle chatter had dwindled to near silence. **  
**

Blessed with the most restraint of all the diners present, Francis found it easiest to ignore her cries, even as they came out sounding more and more like those of a heat-stricken alley cat.  “Your brother does not eat much,” He sipped his wine through a coy smile.

“He’s -- actually, a big eater,” Matthew jumped when the woman on display let out an intense yowl that trailed down into quiet.  “I guess that just proves that he’s interested, right?” He jabbed an elbow into his brother’s side, forcing Alfred to remember that manners existed and he was being very rude (though that thought didn’t last long).

“Alfred,” Francis asked gently, though he should have known better than to try speaking to a man who was so thoroughly hypnotized by the show.  Upon repeating himself he saw Alfred jump and turn to him with wide eyes and wet lips; Elizabeth was working her magic well.

“Yes, sorry,” Alfred might have been embarrassed at his rudeness if there weren’t more pertinent things on his mind.

“Have you ever been with a woman?”

"Well, yeah..." For the first time the entire night Alfred was paying attention to his plate.  "Just a couple though, I'm not, uh, you know --"

Francis stifled a laugh, “It's alright.” Elizabeth found the edge of her next orgasm and hit it, hard.  Being her third, it left her exhausted on the precipice of consciousness, leaking precious slick onto the deepest parts of her vibrator -- it continued buzzing without a care.  She was almost unable to make any noise at all, and the weakness in her voice when she cried out made Francis immediately worry.

The moment it was over she gave a shaky sigh and hung her head; what little was left of her nerves hardly had it in them to respond to the shuddering toy between her legs.

"Is she alright?"

"Of course she is," Francis, having set down his fork, looked to Alfred.  "If she wasn't she would tell us and we would remove her from the situation."

"To this day we've never had such an incident." Ludwig nodded his head and refused dessert as the waiter came by.

"You've been staring at her all night," Francis caught Alfred's attention only by mentioning _her_.  "Why don't you go say hello? She seems eager to get to know you better."

The few steps from Alfred's seat at the table to the cross at the far corner of the room felt like miles -- like an actor onstage he was a part of the performance now, entrusted ever so carefully with the care of the most precious creature in the world.  He was far from the only one who had been watching her throughout dinner, and yet all eyes fell on him, all minds wondered what he would do.

With his first few words his voice shook.  “Hello, um, Elizabeth,” her eyes were foggy and unfocused but they saw him there, somehow, and she pressed her forehead against his chest and rested it there as her only response.

More than anyone else, she trusted him.  But that just made it _worse_.

His entire body was frozen, unable to muster an action that could stand to be helpful; Alfred looked over his shoulder at Francis, who only spared him a smile and a roll of the eyes.  “She is not the most keen to respond with words.  That is how we prefer it around here.”

Alfred's hands felt right running up and down her sides and making her quiver.  He still couldn't keep his eyes off of her as she wriggled up towards him in her restraints and her breasts swayed gently.  She had been entertaining all of them just by riding the vibrator strapped to her cross, but she realized through her post-orgasm haze that she hadn't gotten any real attention since Ludwig's time with her in the bathtub, and in true German fashion he had dutifully scrubbed her down as soon as the fun was over (almost as if he had no desire at all!).

It would not take long for her to come to the understanding that Alfred was not at all like Ludwig.  Not dutiful like him, not cruel like Ivan, not sadistic like Francis, but his own delicious brand of desire.  His fingertips, cautious like a child's, touched her hipbones and then recoiled as if he had hurt her in the simple act.  Elizabeth shook her head, and then -- Alfred showed her how he was different.  He traced a hand (just momentarily, as much as she hated it) over her belly, and swiftly flicked her vibrator off.  She was positively soaked as it was and there was nothing she deserved more than a break from the torture (not that Alfred ever would have ventured to call multiple orgasms torture before meeting Elizabeth).  He hit his knees and the anticipation kept her from keeping still in any way -- like she was a treat of treats he pulled her lips aside and ran his tongue up them, to the hood of this most precious of things.

Her nerves were back, fired with electricity and the drugs they'd put inside her.  As much as it ached (and oh, _everything_ ached) she couldn't allow herself to move too much and interrupt his attention.

Elizabeth tasted as delicious as she sounded, and Alfred, for once, forgot about dinner for the sake of something greater.  

Matthew, as uncomfortable as he had first been at the prospect of watching his brother in such a state, found himself suddenly grateful for his brother's silence as well as the tightness in his pants.  So long as he knew he would get his turn he could wait it out.  Nothing came so easily to Matthew like patience did.

In the meantime, Alfred was finding that nothing had ever come as easily to _him_ as oral sex had.  Of course he'd lied about being with _a_ woman before, nevertheless _women_ , but as he slathered his face in warm, wet juice he made a promise to himself that it wouldn't be the last time for him.

Elizabeth, with a rock of her hips and a bite of her tongue, promised the same.

Alfred had only just begun to undo his pants when Francis interrupted with a scolding tone.  “Don't be so rude,”

“What? But, I'm not --”

“You are certainly not sharing her,” Francis said with a sniff.  “Your brother has not so much as touched her yet.”

Alfred reached a hand to grab the sweet, soft swell of her bottom with all the possessiveness a wolf had for his mate; he hadn’t even been inside her yet but that made no difference.  “He’ll get his turn after.”

“Selfish boy,”

“Both?”

And both _did_ turn to look.  Alfred and Matthew gaped with identical faces to hear the first words their prize had spoken (and probably would speak) the entire night.

“Can’t I have both?”


End file.
